Clouds smear the haloed full moon
wings shudder in the cedars
and fly upward like a trick.
Over two far hills stray dogs
run a mare.
She screams.
Once, my dog beside me stirs
in his dream. Over
the ridge, the Quinalt River
marries the ocean. Near Tuloah
the spring tide roars,
beaching great ruined ancient bones.- Larry Johnson
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